


Ablutionary Habits

by SirLadySketch



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Flirting, Orlesians being assholes, Snarky shots fired, Solavellan, early romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6184666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirLadySketch/pseuds/SirLadySketch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A visiting Orlesian noblewoman takes potshots about the Inquisitor being Dalish. Remli fires back, and Vivienne has some suggestions. Early romance Solavellan; mostly just an excuse for me to flesh out a flyting match between Remli and a noble. Set before "In Pursuit of Knowledge."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ablutionary Habits

“I was under the impression that the Dalish did not follow the ablutionary habits of the city,” says the visiting marchioness, voice light and smile sharp. 

The Inquisitor pauses, hearing the implied _rabbit_ , or, more likely, _knife ear_ at the end of the sentence. The rudeness of the Orlesian nobles never fails to amaze her, and how many of them expect to see her dressed in animal skins and war paints. Remli has already forgotten the woman’s name, but it doesn’t matter. Josie will be politely arranging their departure in the morning.

“We do not,” agrees the Inquisitor, not missing a beat. “We prefer to wash away the dust of the day with water, rather than smother the smells with perfumes.”

“That is not why we wear them!” the woman shrieks, and even through the thick makeup Remli can see the flush of anger, the pursing of lips. Really, what’s the point of wearing a mask if you’re still so easy to read?

“My apologies. It’s just that one cannot help but wonder why you feel compelled to wear so much,” Remli replies. She shifts her focus beyond the sputtering woman and catches the eye of a more friendly opponent. “Ah, Vivienne. I apologize for keeping you waiting. Marchioness,” she says as way of goodbye, then turns to fall in step with the enchantress.

Vivienne’s smile is formal and polite, but her eyes crease in humor.

“Well played, my dear,” the enchanter murmurs, winding their way through the assembled guests who linger in the hall. Remli allows herself a quiet laugh. 

“I could hardly tell her that bathing helps mask your scent, and that we’d rub leaves and flowers over our bodies to melt into the forest smells,” Remli replies, snagging a glass from one of the passing servants. She takes a sip and pauses, considering the idea. “Is that why you wear them? So that people know who you are and how much money you have at a passing whiff?”

Vivienne laughs, swirling the liquid in her own glass before bringing the drink to her lips. “I’ll show you one day, shall I?” she asks. “A trip to Val Royeaux’s finest parfumiers, and you can see for yourself what the reaction will be.” 

“A kind offer,” Remli replies, wondering how she can get out of it.

“No kindness about it, my dear,” smiles Vivienne, patting her shoulder. The woman knows her well enough to sense her disinterest, but still she presses her suit. “As Inquisitor, you’ll only have more frequent interactions with such people. You will be hunting on a different field in the future, allow me to arm you with the appropriate weapons of the court.” 

Remli hardly relishes the thought of spending an entire trip shopping for such things, but they might be able to stop at more interesting places along the way. And it’s true, Vivienne has been very helpful in dealing with these people. It’s a wonder to watch the mage work her sharp wit and biting tongue, like a verbal dagger slipping between the ribs and striking at home. If Vivienne believes that wearing scent when dealing with these beasts will help, Remli will… well, at least consider the suggestion. She does not see the appeal of such strong and lingering odors when you can smell of the wind and trees instead. 

Vivienne’s attention is drawn to something over Remli’s shoulder, and a knowing smile crosses her lips. She murmurs in the Inquisitor’s ear as she slips away, “Think on it, my dear. You may find other uses for such things as well.”

The Inquisitor can sense him behind her, and feels a flush rise to her cheeks, even as she turns to greet him. It is possible Solas did not hear what was said, given the low din of the room, but if he did, he is too much a gentleman to speak of it. Instead, he speaks of familiar things, keeping her company until Varric accuses them of collusion and keeping secrets. 

The night ends with a round of Wicked Grace in the back kitchen with some of the Chargers, guests all but forgotten, ale passing freely with no worry of hangovers in the morning—she will not be saying goodbye to the smelly shem woman. But as she bids them goodnight and steals a goodnight kiss from Solas before heading to her room, she cannot help but wonder if Vivienne might be on to something.

**Author's Note:**

> Experimenting with present tense... not sure how I feel about it. I think I'll stick to past tense for fics moving forward, and only do present tense for RP and "Archives" short stories (when appropriate)
> 
> Also I did manage to trigger the whole 'Solas smells like "trees"' dialogue while we were in the Hissing Wastes, so apparently the Inquisitor does wear some scent, even if it's just shampoo/conditioner.


End file.
